


Underneath Her Pillow

by type_40_consulting_detective



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Diary/Journal, Episode: s01e03 The Great Game, F/M, Jim from IT, Unconventional Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2502812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/type_40_consulting_detective/pseuds/type_40_consulting_detective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly's computer isn't cooperating, and the new guy from IT know just what to do. An office romance start to finish from Molly's diary and a letter left under he pillow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underneath Her Pillow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SongOnTheWind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOnTheWind/gifts).



> Exchangelock "What if Jim really loved Molly?" for songonthewind

Dear Diary,  
I have never been so glad to come home. You-know-who wouldn’t leave the lab, so I couldn’t. Who knows what he’d have done, probably made off with half the corpses.

The bright spot though, before you-know-who, was the adorable new guy in IT, Jim. He came in like a knight in shining armour, when I couldn’t get the internet working. Something about a proxy, but I couldn’t pay much attention. DUBLIN ACCENT. Big brown eyes. So different from you-know-who, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it? I don’t know, but I got butterflies. Clare says I should “break” something else, get him to come down again. Don’t want to be obvious (I always hear that word in HIS voice *grrrrr*)

Marge is gone, thank god. I get it, you’re pregnant, good for you. Stop going on about it, some of us have heard enough. Never laid into her about it at least, much as I wanted to. At this rate, I’ll have nothing but Toby and a few other furry babies.

Marcus Jones came into work today, on a slab. Never thought I’d have to deal with that one. Not that I really liked him, I didn’t, but he was just young. I remember watching him race down the street on his motorbike, no helmet, darting around taxis. He was an idiot, but no one deserves this. There was more broken than not. At least I wasn’t there when Sarah claimed the body. Think I’ll take her over a dinner in a few days, watch Katie for a bit if she needs.

One more day before the weekend, and I might even duck out early to make up for all the extra hours. Wine, bubble bath, Kindle. I’m my own best date, aren’t I?

Molly

~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Diary.  
Why do these things happen to me? I lured (that sounds awful) Jim down with a half unplugged HDMI cord, which he had to climb under the desk for. OMG. He fixed it in ten seconds, chuckling about those darn tech faeries, always wandering about giving him more work to do. He knew, I know he did! Must not have been too bad, he asked me to come to the canteen for a coffee, wasn’t it my break time? Of course it wasn’t, I’m swamped up to eyes in things to do, but COFFEE. CUTE GUY. 

I made a fool of myself, I swear I did. Couldn’t stop talking about the corpses, or you-know-who. He seemed interested in both, shockingly, but I don’t know. He had to run off and fix another computer. What ever this proxy thing is, it seems to be going around like a virus. He came by before I left, brought me another coffee and asked me to dinner. I couldn’t help but splutter when he asked, surprised he didn’t take it back right away. I don’t want to get my hopes up yet, but FINALLY, a nice normal bloke.

Must shop tomorrow, I don’t own anything that doesn’t scream “cat lady”. Think I’ll call Clare, she’ll know just where to go. Now the debate, is this a date worth waxing for?

Molly

~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Diary,  
I’m floating. I’m on cloud nine and everything is wonderful. Maybe it’s the wine, but I don’t think so. We had dinner at a new place, something something tapas, and everything was delicious. Finger foods, so I was scared to spill all over, but i didn’t get a bit on my dress. He fed me the last of the seared tuna, telling me to lick the sauce from his finger and I swear I whimpered out loud. Get control of yourself, Molly!

After, we walked through the park hand in hand and he told me about his home. I wish I could see it, the stretches of brilliant emerald green crossed over with low stone walls and dotted with white sheep. He made it sound like a fairy tale, a place of peace. Why he ever left it for London, I’ll never know. I’d never leave.

We took the tube back to mine, and I brought him in for coffee. Such a slag, I know, but… well, I don’t have a reason. Do I need a reason? I don’t even know anymore. Not like we did much, _he_ slowed it down. He said he didn’t want this to just be a one time thing, but I wonder if that was it. Clare says don’t call him. I’m not calling him. I might have called him and hung up. I might need to put down this wine glass and sleep.

Molly

~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Diary,  
Hung over for Sunday Brunch, haven’t done that in a few years. I didn’t leave a drunken text or voice mail this time though, so progress?

Called in after brunch to deal with you-know-who, and there is no amount of coffee that makes this ok. He deduced out loud all about my night while his assistant tutted and gave me sympathetic eyes. Honestly, why does it still make my heart flutter? Guess you can’t ever really choose who you love, can you? Not that I love him, but, well, it’s hard to explain. John, I think is his name, he seems to understand it too, might even be in the same boat. you know who has that way about him, you want to punch him and kiss it better. Not that I would, can’t even tell him to shut it.

Time to curl up with Doctor Who on the DVR!!! At least there is one man that never disappoints me!

Molly

~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Diary,  
HE’S COMING OVER TOMORROW!!!

Jim has never seen Glee, and he not so subtly said he should come over and watch it. With me, here. I’m ordering in chinese. Maybe curry. Really should ask, will do tomorrow. He had to come down and fix my anti-virus, the hospital keeps getting viruses and we are changing programs. Can’t have med records leaking. He says he’ll be back tomorrow to bring me coffee, since I never seem to get a moments peace. He’s really turning on the charm, like I’m the catch and he can’t believe how lucky he is. How can this be real?

Molly

Dear Diary,  
So I didn’t write EVERY day for a whole year like I said I would, I owe Clare and Leigh drinks out. Might get a pass though, I was too exhausted to write last night. 

Jim loved Glee, even if the covers weren’t as good as some of the originals. He sang half under his breath, the adorable dork, and the last song was whispered right into my ear, leaving me writhing and unable to hold still to save my life. Next thing I know, I’m straddled across his lap, his mouth on my neck, and Toby lunges for the hands working under my top. Jim took it so well, washing the cuts in the loo before suggesting we relocate to a room with a door between us and the monster. The only rooms like that are the loo and my bedroom, but I doubt he missed that. I lead him to my room, so nervous!!! I’m blushing even thinking about the things he did, I can’t write them out. At least I will NEVER forget that, so no need to journal it. 

He slept over and took me out to brunch in the morning. It’s like he knows every little hole in the wall in town, I swear, but the food is always fantastic. If for no other reason, he’s a catch. 

Molly

~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Diary,  
It was bound to happen, wasn’t it? Likes musicals, knows great restaurants, kind, sweet, totally available man in his early thirties without kids or crazy exes. Flirts with Sherlock Fucking Holmes and leaves him his cell number. 

I try not to take it personally, but damnit it hurts. Sherlock isn't that irresistible, is he? And Jim didn’t really know the man, he’d surely hate him if he did. 

I don’t know if this means we’re over. I guess we never really defined it, but I thought… I don’t know. I’ll just see if he calls.

Molly

Dear diary,  
Jim has left 3 messages. I listened to them, he seems sincere. He wanted to offer is IT assistance to the detective if needed, but couldn’t handle the brush off. I just don't know. I’ll call him. He can come tell me to my face, I’ll see if he looks half as sincere as he sounds.

Molly

~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Diary,

I couldn’t sleep at all last night, tossing and turning, wondering what Jim would have to say. At least I didn’t have to work. I don’t think I could look at you know who’s smug face again, or his partner’s sad compassion. I took a long walk, had a late coffee and sandwich lunch, then cleaned the flat twice. Nothing made the time move faster, I swear I need a TARDIS.

Jim brought a bunch of daisies and takeaway. He looked distraught, and I couldn’t stay mad. I tried, I did, but he looked like I’d broken his heart. We ate in silence, shifting closer with each minute until he lay against me, arm holding me to his side, a soft song sung into my hair like a soothing spell. I slipped into it, letting the croon of his voice consume my whole thought, and the places where we touched where the only things in the world. I craved more, and reached out to him, giving permission with my fingers.

I’m slipping into poetics again; he makes me feel that way. It’s unreal, like a pulp romance. _“I gave him myself, and he gave me peace.”_ I didn’t believe those could be at all realistic, but I’m converted now.

He left, said he had a meeting to get to tonight. Told him I don’t know anyone decent who has meeting after 11, but he just laughed and kissed me goodbye. 

Molly

~~~~~~~~~~

My Dolly,  
There are a million reasons not to put this down on paper, but I can’t resist. You know now, or you will soon. 

First, the lies: My name isn’t Jim Masters, or even Jim. I’m not really an IT professional. I’ve never lie in a field looking at the stars. I’ve never owned a cat at all, they often attack me, I had seen Glee before. I’m not straight, I’m Bi. I didn't go to public school and I never backpacked through Europe. I didn’t just happen upon your hospital and your computer didn't break by accident.

The truths, though, might be harder to anticipate or believe. Everything about my home in Ireland., my Mum and Da and the sheep in the pastures. My favorite foods and movies and shows. That I loved every moment we spent together. 

I loved the night walks and the soft kisses and the last night. I knew it would be our last, Dolly. Would it have been kinder to leave you angry with me, thinking I betrayed you? Maybe, but I couldn’t bear it. Knowing you hate me above anything right now hurts me in ways I can’t explain. If you could stand to see me again, for any reason, I’d take it. Lay into me, set me up for Sherlock to have, do what you like with me. 

One day, I’d still love to take you to that cottage, to see the endless green and the fiery sunset. I’d to hold you again, offering myself to your lips and hands, and you’d cry out _my_ name. In a different world, you’d look past my career and come to me. In a different world, we might have met before I fell in to this world, to play puppet to a mad man.

This is our world, my fae, and I can’t see it working. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’ll come to me tonight and somehow we’ll both escape our madmen. Tell me that you’ll run and I’ll run with you forever. 

I have your chapstick still in my pocket, and your hair band. Forgive me, they aren’t going to be returned. It’s all I can take of you with me. Life is about to get very scary for everyone. Stay away from the mess, I couldn’t bear to see you hurt.

Yours,  
Richard, not Jim


End file.
